


The Long Goodbye

by Gedry



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Aging, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Friends to Lovers, Growing Old Together, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lonely Oswald Cobblepot, M/M, Medical Conditions, Mental Health Issues, Oblivious Edward Nygma, Post-Season/Series Finale, Retirement, Sex, Slow Burn, Travel, Viagra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gedry/pseuds/Gedry
Summary: Eighteen years after his release from Blackgate Oswald is tired and ready to explore a life outside of Gotham.  His only problem being the person he wants to have that life with doesn't seem to understand or care.  He knows he shouldn't be surprised, when have he and Ed ever been on the same page?
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 85
Kudos: 200





	1. Chapter 1

The Long Goodbye

“Edward,” Oswald begins after several hours of silence between them. “Have you ever considered ...retirement?”

They’ve been pouring over plans for weeks now. The next big heist, the next move in the game. Tonight Ed has spent most of his time bent over their plans going over strategy again and again. There’s something about it that just doesn’t feel right to him and he can’t place it. Oswald has sat through numerous discussion related to the issue and has finally given up all hope on settling it. For the last two hours Ed’s been like a man obsessed. Muttering to himself as he reviews every single step of their process. “As a concept?” He questions. “Giving up your life’s work to rot away alone wondering how you’re going to make ends meet. Sounds horrible. Like walking death or worse, idiocy.”

Oswald stares at the back of Ed’s bent head for a long moment before sighing, pushing himself to his feet, and hobbling toward the door of Ed’s base of operations. “Goodnight, Ed,” he murmurs as he takes his leave. “That was very informative.”

He tries not to let it hurt him that Ed doesn’t even look up as he leaves. 

The car ride to his estate feels as though it’s taken forever. It’s cold. The middle of the long Gotham winter leaving Oswald constantly chilled and suffering significant pain from his previous injuries. He limps into his bedroom after excusing the small contingent of remaining staff. Finally shrugging out of his finery, appearances must be maintained after all, before heading to the bathroom to prepare for the few hours of sleep he’s likely to get tonight given his mood and level of discomfort. 

He stares at his reflection in the mirror with an assessing and slightly bitter eye. Hair more grey than black now, lines in his face that he never thought he would live long enough to see. The slight shaking of his left hand, knuckles swollen and aching with the beginning stages of arthritis. The 18 years since his release from Blackgate have not been kind to him. He’s come to accept the facts after years of struggling. 

He’s gotten old. 

Yet, he remains, as he has been most of his life, terribly lonely. 

It’s only recently become unacceptable. 

Oswald has accepted a number of facts about his life, thought it pains him to admit it. He’ll never be the King of Gotham again. He’s past his prime. He’s walking the very fine line of becoming a burden. Not that anyone would complain. The rogues need his financial backing too much to comment on him slowing them down. And Ed, well, Ed comes with his own burdens. 

Oswald owes much of the weight he has gained in his older years to Ed’s mental health issues. There are long periods of paranoia and delusion where Ed will refuse to eat unless Oswald eats the same food. Unfortunately for Oswald, Ed’s metabolism works as quickly as his brain. Oswald can’t keep up. But he’s unwilling to let the one remaining ...friend he has go hungry. It’s not as though he’s worried about attracting potential partners at this point. 

It’s easier just to pay them on the rare occurrences when he’s in need. 

Those occasions are growing considerably rarer. 

He locks the door to his bedroom before heading to his safe. Though he lives alone all kinds of people, bats, rogues, police, have a habit of showing up at all hours of the night. For the most part he finds the visitations entertaining. But the safe and what it holds are for his eyes only. 

Oswald shudders to think of what Ed would be like if he knew the safe existed. Oswald has watched the tall man drive himself to complete insanity trying to open other similar prizes just for the lack of nothing better to do. Edward cannot ever be allowed to find this secret. 

Oswald would never hear the end of it. 

He drags the bag out of his safe and as he has done many, many times before curls up on his bed to review the contents. Oswald has developed quite the collection after so many years of waiting, mulling, dare he say hoping. But maybe, it’s time to move on. 

He shuffles through the travel brochures, some long faded, others still shiny. Oswald’s mother had often spoken of the world outside of their city. For most of his youth Oswald had no interest or drive to be anywhere but Gotham. But as he ages, he wonders about the world beyond its borders. So many places to explore. So many opportunities for change that have slipped through his fingers as he has waited. 

Romantic brochure photos of couples frolicking on beaches, sitting in gondolas, standing under the Eiffel Tower. His isolation swallowing him whole. 

It’s time. 

Decisions must be made. 

Oswald is done. Done with Gotham. Done with the rogues. Done with Gordon. Done with the deranged bat. 

Done with Ed? 

He’s never going to be done with Ed. But Ed never sees him. Not the way Oswald has always craved to be seen. 

“Six months,” he whispers to himself. “Six months and I’m gone. With or without him.”

Decision made he wipes his tears, organizes his brochures into a system of where to start. All he has to do now is to pick a destination. That’s easy. He can get help with that. At this point, as he looks across his empty suite, anywhere, even without company, would have to be better than here. 

He thinks about the city and their history and shakes his head. “You have taken the whole of my life, my mother, my leg, my father, my eye, and my freedom. You gave me Edward and I let him take my heart. I’m determined not to give you anything more. If I can’t convince him to leave with me in the next six months I WILL leave him behind. I can’t take another winter like this.”

Dawn seems to come unbearably slowly as Oswald sits in his bed. Too tired to sleep. Too exhausted to get up. 

“One more game,” Oswald mutters to himself as he curls onto his side. “One more chance and I can rest.”

He hugs a pillow to his chest and closes his eyes. 

He promises himself he will start tomorrow.


	2. Part 2:  Hawaii

Part 2: Hawaii

“Aloha!” Oswald announces with a smile as he waltzes into Ed’s workspace dropping a lei around Ed’s neck, just thankful the taller man is sitting. Otherwise Oswald would have had no chance. 

Ed looks at him as though he has lost his mind. “Did someone hit you in the head?”

Oswald forces a laugh, ignoring how stilted and strained it sounds as it leaves his mouth and just hopes Ed over looks it. That part shouldn’t be a problem, Ed has been overlooking Oswald for years. 

Ah, there it is, the gaping hole where his self worth once lived. 

“No,” Oswald manages to croak out. “I just felt like a change. This weather is truly bitter.”

“It is worse than I remember it being,” Ed comments before shrugging off the lei and returning to his notes. 

“Have you ever thought about going somewhere else?” Oswald asks as he helps himself to the tea in the workrooms cabinets. “Like ...geese or something. Maybe even just for the winter?”

Ed hums. 

Moments go by as Oswald waits and Ed scratches notes down about their plans. 

“Edward,” Oswald says flatly. “Are you listening to me?”

“Geese,” Ed replies without looking up. “I don’t know why you’re concerned about them right now, this job is almost totally indoors. Geese fly south for the winter. I think you’re being overly cautious. But if you want I can make a contingency plan for ...fowl.” 

It takes a considerable amount of Oswald’s willpower to not brain Ed with his tea cup. But it’s warm in his trembling, aching fingers and Oswald struggles so much to be warm this time of year. Even the tiniest bit of relief is better than his suffering. “Nevermind,” he mutters as he tucks himself into the chair next to the desk. Proud of himself that he managed to settle without wincing and betraying his weaknesses. 

Not that Ed would have even noticed. 

Ed never notices.

Oswald sometimes thinks he could be on fire and Ed would wonder why it was warmer in the room. 

He shakes off his melancholy as much as he can. “How ready are we for tonight?” Oswald asks. Feeling like a coward for giving up so easily. 

“I still think we are missing something,” Ed sighs. Clearly frustrated. 

“We’ve been over it a hundred times,” Oswald complains. But he leans forward, plucking the notes out of Ed’s hands and goes over them again. Twice. Just in case. 

*****

They had missed something. 

Sadly, even as the building catches fire around them, neither Ed nor Oswald are entirely sure what specifically the miss was. 

In any case, it doesn’t matter now. 

Now they run, or in his case, try to run, before the whole place collapses on top of them. 

“GO!” Oswald shouts as he sees Ed hesitate at the doorway to look back for him. Ignorant ass finally noticing that Oswald has been falling behind. 

Ed shakes his head, lurching away from the door to come back to Oswald. The taller man snatches him up off his feet with a snarl and dashes, as best he can with the extra weight, to the exit. 

It’s hard to breathe. Oswald is gasping and coughing even though it’s Ed doing all the work. When he’s dropped, unceremoniously and painfully, into a heap next to their car Ed yanks the door open, grabs his elbow so hard Oswald cries out, and snaps, “GET IN!” 

It’s only then that time seems to start moving again. He hears the sirens, knows they’re close. Prays that the Bat is distracted by the blaze. Ed slams the car into gear and rips away from the docks. 

So help him, Oswald hates the docks so much. Why are warehouses always on the docks?

He’s still struggling to breathe by the time they reach the safehouse. The whole evening a bust, they’re both frustrated, at odds with each other. Ed’s been snarling and snapping at him the whole ride over. Oswald is fed up, lurching to his feet as soon as the car skids to a stop, throwing open the door to the safehouse and retreating immediately to the small side room set up specifically for him. 

He wants to go home, get away from this biting cold, endless worry, and Edward Nygma who has the nerve to bang on the door to his room and shout, “WE NEED TO WORK THROUGH THIS MESS!”

Oswald wishes he meant their relationship. But Oswald knows he means the bust of a heist. “Tomorrow,” he wheezes, grateful he locked the door when he slammed it shut. “We’ll do it tomorrow.” 

Ed shuffles away from the other side of the door muttering to himself. Oswald collapses on the cot shoved into the corner with something close to a cry of pain. He struggles to control his breathing, yanking at his vest, shirt, and tie while he gasps. 

“Oswald,” Ed says as he returns to the closed door. “Talk to me. I can hear how badly you’re breathing.”

“Experience the gorgeous sunsets on Hawaii,” Oswald manages to get out. “The destination for all your romance and relaxation needs. Surround yourself with the aloha spirit as you feel the tropical breeze across the sands of our many beautiful beaches. Enjoy the seclusion provided by your own personal island landscape, hike our trails, or pamper yourself in our world renowned spas. Come for a week and stay forever.”

Oswald feels his breathing calm. He repeats it over and over. Reaching up trembling fingers to wipe away the tears leaking from his eye and rolling down the side of his face. Crying is going to give him a migraine. It always does nowadays. The changing pressure inside his skull aggravating his old grenade injury. 

He hiccups through is last repetition hoping that Ed will be willing to overlook this whole weird evening. Hawaii is clearly off the list of destinations, Oswald thinks to himself. Option one getting no reaction or interest from Ed. Onto option two then. 

He’ll deal with it tomorrow. 

“Aloha,” Oswald mutters to himself as he flails his hand over to shut off the light. 

He hears Ed sigh on the other side of the door before moving back into the other room with a sad sounding, “Aloha, Oswald.”


	3. Part 3 - Santorini, Greece

The wine takes what feels like forever to arrive. A special order, shipped at great expense. Oswald had started talking about a celebratory dinner related to what had surprisingly, even with the fire, turned out to be a very successful heist, weeks before the wine came in from Santorini. 

It’s the next place on his list. This time he’s trying food and drink to attract Ed’s attention. It’s a good time for this effort, Ed’s mental health issues have been fairly stable for the last month, which means he’s started taking his medication again at some point in the last two months. Oswald is grateful, while they staunchly will not openly discuss Ed’s need for medication nor Oswald’s questionable physical health, there is always a weight off his shoulders when his ...friend is taking better care of himself. 

“Dinner tomorrow?” Oswald asks as he picks up his heavy coat and struggles to shove his arms into it without knocking something over in Ed’s crowded space. 

“Yes,Oswald,” Ed snorts as he wipes his hands off of whatever goo he’s currently experimenting with. “For the hundredth time, dinner tomorrow. Can I bring anything?”

It’s said so evenly, as though their history with dinners isn’t an ugly blight on their past. Oswald sees the moment Ed remembers. They both freeze, silence heavy with pain in the space between them. Oswald flushes, he can feel the tremor from his hand starting to creep up his arm. 

“No.” He manages to choke out. “I have everything covered.”

Ed nods so slowly. His eyes not quite meeting Oswalds. “Understood.” 

Oswald steps toward the door filled with dread, even after all these years. Some kind of panic must show on his face because Ed is standing abruptly, crossing the distance between them on long legs that navigate the cramped space with an ease Oswald has never felt. 

Ed reaches out and places his hand on Oswald’s chest, over his heart and leans in close to murmur in a voice filled with sincerity, “I’ll be there, early even. No distractions you have my word.”

Oswald nods shakily, Ed opening the door for him and watching his as he crosses the icy terrain of the lot towards his car before shutting the door and disappearing into his lair again. 

Oswald spends much of the ride home agonizing about what had just happened between them. They almost never touch each other, and even then, when they do it’s usually only reflective of something shocking happening or someone being injured. Why Ed did that Oswald has no clue. He spends half of his night awake in his bed pondering the reasons behind such an intimate gesture, his hand pressed over the pace on his chest where Ed had touched. 

******

Ed is blessedly almost an hour early for dinner. 

Early, who would have believed it. 

He brings lilies, offering them to Oswald with a shrug and a muttered, “I’m better at flowers than wine I suppose.” Then he blushes. 

Oswald snorts. 

And for a moment they are young again, standing in the entryway of the estate and smiling at each other. It’s wonderful. 

But then the fire alarm goes off in the kitchen and Oswald screeches in disappointment as he turns and rushes to the source of the noise while Ed follows behind yanking open windows and the kitchen back door. 

“I can cook.” Oswald comments defensively as he tosses out his third attempt at baklava. “You know I can.” 

Ed nods with a grin hovering around his mouth. While Oswald had few skills in the kitchen prior to his incarceration he had spent the better part of his time in Blackgate learning how to cook. Those skills only later enhanced after their release when he realized he not only enjoyed it, but it was good for his blood pressure. A stress reliever.

“You look busy,” Ed comments as Oswald shuffles around the kitchen checking dishes and finishing up the final touches to those that have to be done just before serving. Oswald just smiles, he’s good at this, comfortable. It’s one of the few places in his life he actually feels one hundred percent confident. 

Ed has always been a mess in the kitchen. He has openly admitted on several occasions that while the recipes are very much like science, he lacks the artistic flare for food. Some unknown quality that skipped him. He CAN cook, he even produces some lovely dishes. He just doesn’t enjoy it. As in, AT ALL. 

Which is why Oswald is stunned when Ed asks, “Would you like some help?”

After a moment Oswald responds with, “I don’t actually know how to respond to that..”

Ed full on laughs, which is frankly even weirder. 

But Ed brushes past him. Pulling up on the tablet Oswald has laid out on the counter the recipe for baklava and begins again. “It’s supposed to sit for four hours after we cook it,” Oswald sighs. “I’m afraid we might have to skip dessert this evening.” Not wanting Ed to waste his time when the timing is now so very off. 

“You just threw out your last effort,” Ed comments as he keeps working, “I’m assuming you won’t be opposed if I stay until after dessert?” 

“That would be ...grand,” Oswald settles with saying. A warm feeling spreading through his chest that he hasn’t experienced in years and thought he was incapable of any more. 

Ed hums, but keeps working. “Pour me some of this wine I have heard so much about?” He asks. 

Oswald rushes to do so. They end up eating at the small table in the kitchen. Ed all but inhaling the courses Oswald has worked so diligently to prepare while Oswald regales him of interesting facts about Greece as a whole and the Santorini island Oswald has become so interested in of late. Not a single word about Gotham, the Bat, or another job between them the whole of the evening. 

They polish off a third bottle of wine while they wait for dessert. Honestly, both of them too drunk by that point to really care how it tastes. It doesn’t matter, it’s the effort that Oswald will remember this night. Not the taste of baklava. 

Ed ...stays. 

Not in any way a romantic gesture, but it’s a very rare thing for Oswald to not bed down in his home alone. There’s a security in knowing that Ed has his face buried, snoring, into the pillow of one of the guest bedrooms. 

Oswald falls asleep with little difficulty, thinking to himself that Santorini is certainly still in the running.


	4. ST. BARTHELEMY, CARIBBEAN

Things between them have always been ...explosive. 

Ed and Oswald are both awkward, overly caffeinated, type A pandas. There’s no surprises there. 

So when the argument starts Oswald is neither surprised nor honestly all that upset. Sometimes, they argue for fun. It’s mentally stimulating, passes the time, and gives them something to do when their snowed in together. 

Like they are right now. 

It’s been a month since what Oswald has started to call “THE DINNER.” A freezing but relatively dry December falling into an absolutely disgusting January bordering on an equally disheartening February. Oswald knows penguins are well suited for cold weather. But he fancies himself more of an African Penguin. Ignoring the teasing of Ed related to their nickname. Jackass indeed. Oswald knows he’s loud. He just cares less and less about censoring himself as he gets older. 

Which frankly, is a feat. He never really cared that much to begin with. 

In any case, they’ve been discussing, loosely, the idea of teaming up with Valesca and some of the other rogues for a larger job. Not a job of their planning which immediately sets Oswald on edge. He trusts Ed. Knows that though their relationship has had its ins and outs and ups and downs they have not actually tried to hurt one another for over two decades. Ed may not love him, not the way OSwald has always craved, but he does value him far too much to put him at risk. 

The Joker ...values nothing but winning and pain. 

The disagreement turns particularly heated when Oswald realizes that the terrain required for successful completion of this particular job puts him at a serious disadvantage. 

“The woods?” Oswald scoffs, “You know I don’t handle the woods well.”

“That’s why you won’t be in them,” Ed nods. “You have another role in this process.” 

Oswald scans the list of players and purposes again and this is when everything snaps. “You let them make me the getaway driver?!”

“It’s a very important part of this plan,” Ed starts.

“NO! ED!” Oswald shouts, “IT IS NOT! Not if everything goes according to plan! You’ve let them sideline me!”

“I did no such thing!” Ed snaps. “Do you know how difficult the negotiations are with him? He’s insane! He doesn’t care if anyone else or himself gets hurt so long as the job gets done. This took DAYS to get set in stone.”

“I won’t do it,” Oswald refuses. “I won’t be tossed aside like trash because I can’t step over a few roots.”

“Oswald,” Ed sighs. “Please don’t be like this.” 

“Like what?” Oswald snarls. “Like cow being driven out to pasture? Oh wait, never mind, you’re asking me to drive myself.”

Ed erupts then. Shouts and arm waving. But Oswald’s having a difficult time focusing. There’s been this tingling in his left arm off and on most of the day. He’s had a headache that is getting more and more difficult to ignore. Pain starts to radiate across his chest and he struggles to breathe. The world gets grey. Oswald is somewhat aware that he’s falling over. Ed rushing to his side, the disagreement they were having forgotten while Ed scrambles to call for help. 

Oswald’s world slides away. 

He has flashes of awareness. Being moved. Someone sobbing. Who would be crying over him? 

He’s in Gotham General when he wakes up, that much is certain. Which is bad. Not the worse case scenario, but close. Ed would have only allowed Oswald to be treated at the regular hospital if the private physician he keeps on retainer was unable to handle what happened to him on his own. 

“You had a heart attack,” Ed murmurs from the dim light to Oswald’s left. Leaning closer to the bed as if to see if Oswald was tracking their conversation.

Ed looks ...horrific, eyes red rimmed, hair sticking up all over, jaw tight, “I didn’t know I was your emergency contact, Oswald.”

Oswald chooses to ignore that minefield. “Prognosis?”

“Your lab results are damn near catastrophic,” Ed answers, pulling his chair closer and reaching out to take Oswald’s hand after a moment's hesitation. “Oswald, you need a follow up procedure but they say you can come home after tomorrow. I’ve handled everything. We need to talk about addressing your health needs better. You damn near died on me and..”

“Did you know,” Oswald interrupts, talking as loudly as he can given his current state. “That St. Barthelemy in the Carribean has a flag designed with a lily included..”

“Oswald,” Ed snaps. “This is serious. We HAVE to talk about this.” But as his eyes search Oswald’s face he frowns and reaches up to wipe tears from his own eyes. 

Oswald waits. 

“Fine,” Ed sighs sounding more like a sob. “Tell me about St. Barthelemy.”

“There are one hundred eighty three species of fish,” Oswald starts rambling. “Christopher Columbus discovered it in 1493. But it’s been under the French flag off and on since 1648. They have limited rain but still maintain plenty of vegetation and they say it’s sunny there for almost three hundred days a year. Not like here by any means. They have no rivers so fresh water is a valuable commodity. Imagine stealing water instead of gems…”

Ed’s eyes have never looked so sad. Oswald refuses to acknowledge it. He knows how poor his health is. Has known for a long time. It’s the largest part of his reasoning behind retirement. He had just hoped to have more time before Ed found him out. 

“We are going to talk about this, Oswald.” Ed comments when Oswald takes a breath. But he stays silent after that and nods along as Oswald rambles well into the night.


	5. BALI, INDONESIA

“Did you know,” Oswald gasps out during his physical therapy. “That Bali has not only one but two active volcanoes?”

This heart attack fiasco has Oswald totally off schedule about his plans to leave. 

Ed gives him the side eye. “You have 20 more minutes.”

“I hate you,” Oswald snaps as he continues pushing himself through the water of his indoor pool at the estate.

“Noted,” Ed comments dryly as he keeps his eyes on the stopwatch.

“It made me think of us,” Oswald struggles to get out as he turns to do another length of the pool. Fuck hydrotherapy. 

“What did?” Ed actually looks interested in something other than his intense and irrational fear that Oswald might drop dead at any moment. 

“The volcanos,” Oswald chokes out, accidentally getting a mouthful of water. 

“How so?” Ed actually stops pacing to look at him. 

Oswald has a momentary lapse in movement which makes Ed clear his throat pointedly. He starts moving again but doesn’t want to explain the association. It feels too intimate. “They have a black sand beach there,” Oswald starts again. “And a chocolate factory.”

“Whatever list you’re working through,” Ed sighs “Take Bali off it. No chocolate factory for you Willy Wonka.”

“But the oompa loompas!” Oswald wails dramatically as he reaches the side and turns to go back the other way. “What will they do without me?”

“What they doopity do,” Ed comments. 

Oswald stops moving, turning over his shoulder to stare opened mouth at the taller man who finally looks up from his chart of Oswald’s many health failures and ...smiles. 

They laugh. For a moment, everything feels warm. 

*****

“Where will we go tomorrow?” Ed asks as they sit down for tea that night. 

Oswald’s after dinner snacks taken from him and replaced by ginger tea of all things. He’s been vocal about the restrictions Ed has placed on his diet, activity level, and general functionality. But truth be told, he loves it. He’s soaking up every bit of Ed that he can get before this all comes burning down around his ears. “What do you mean? We aren’t going anywhere. Did I forget an engagement?”

“No,” Ed shakes his head. “I mean your tails of adventure or rather, opportunities for adventure all across the globe. Today it was Bali, what will it be tomorrow?”

“I …” Oswald hesitates, uncertain why Ed is asking. “Don’t know.”

Ed nods, looking solemnly at the fire. “When you decide, will you go alone?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ed,” Oswald scrambles, panicking, his tea cup nearly pouring over from the way his hand shakes.

“Of course not,” Ed looks unbearably lost for a moment. “Our whole lives have been centered here. Why would we ever want to leave?”

“Ed,” Oswald whispers. And he wants to say COME WITH ME. He wants to say, I LOVE YOU, YOU’RE MY EVERYTHING, PICK THE PLACE AND IT'S YOURS. But he’s so afraid of being wrong, of being right, of himself and Ed and everything they are and have been and could be. Oswald is drowning in his tea cup. Tears begin to well in his eyes, a melancholy so intense he aches with it. “Will you pick tomorrow?”

Ed blinks as though he’s totally taken aback. “Pick the place we go?”

“Yes,” Oswald offers. “If you want to.”

“I do,” Ed answers, so quickly that Oswald had almost not gotten the full sentence out before he started to talk. “I’ll need to do research, you’ve clearly been doing yours. I can’t show up halfway prepared. OH! I can cross reference your medical needs with the best climate to support your health and productivity. This will be enjoyable and productive. Such a rare thing these days.” 

Oswald is a little dumbstruck as Ed rises to his feet, still mumbling to himself about the effects of humidity on asthmatics and starts to wander out of the room. He offers a quiet, “Good night,” as Ed nears the door of the living room, only to have Ed turn back around and lean over him to press a kiss to the greying top of Oswald’s head. 

“Good night,” Ed murmurs into his hair before sliding away, rounding the corner saying to himself, “Well, no. I haven’t. But neither has he. I don’t know WHEN!” 

Just a tiny press of his lips.

Insignificant really.

The kind of kiss mothers press to their children. 

He didn’t mean anything by it. 

Couldn’t have. Could he?

Oswald’s tea spills out of his numb fingers and onto the floor. 

He groans and presses his hands to his face. Peeking through his fingers to make certain Ed is gone before making a noise so high pitched and excited that no man his age should even be capable of. 

Oh, joy. He’d forgotten he could feel that emotion. 

Oh no. What terrible thing is about to happen now?


	6. Cape Town, South Africa

Cape Town, South Africa

“There are penguins in South Africa,” Ed comments as he sits on the edge of Oswald’s indoor pool, soaking his feet in the water while he monitors Oswald’s therapy. 

“So you selected Cape Town?” Oswald questions as he turns at the far edge of the pool to do another lap. As much as he hates this, he has to admit it’s getting easier to finish this aqua therapy. His joints are loser, the water supporting his body in a way his battered leg has not been able to do in decades. 

The difficult part today has been not getting distracted by Ed and his ….feet. 

It’s stupid. Oswald has never really been physically attracted to anyone BUT Ed. Even those other men he paid for sex were selected with very specific height and form requirements. The act carried out with a lot of help from denial, guilt, and copious alcohol. 

Oswald misses alcohol. 

So while in general Oswald doesn’t really have a response to feet, other than he hopes they stay away from him, his traitorus labido is fixed on Ed’s long, slender toes and delicate looking ankles where they float in his pool. 

He’s being ridiculous. 

Blessedly, Ed remains oblivious. 

“I did!” Ed smiles. “Was this a place you also considered?”

“Yes,” Oswald nods. “But I’m curious how this fits in with what you delicately refer to as my HEALTH DEFICIENCIES.”

Ed ignores the jab. Oswald was frankly hoping he would take the bait. 

“The climate is productive for your breathing problems, there is plentiful access to well trained doctors. The first heart transplant was done in Cape Town. The terrain is manageable for your leg and it offers within travel distance significant opportunities for activity and adventure.” Ed hesitates then, long enough for Oswald to take notice of it. “They also have the largest LGBT+ party in the world every year.”

“Why is that important?” Oswald comments as he turns around to swim back the other way with a little more force than totally necessary. This is getting into dangerous ground for them. He’s not entirely sure why he doesn’t just comment on something else or ignore it all together. That’s what he’s done in the past. But there’s something about the look on Ed’s face that irritates Oswald. Something vulnerable related to that specific comment making Ed flush and shift on the side of the pool. 

“It’s not,” Ed shrugs. “But ...I know it was a very long time ago so my data is severely lacking. You loved me once. Given the circumstances I never asked you about your possible intentions. But I thought you might like to know you would be accepted there if that’s how you identify.”

Oswald stops swimming. Ed looks at the stop watch and then back at Oswald but he doesn’t say anything. “I want to get out of the pool now,” Oswald almost growls. 

“You have fifteen more minutes,” Ed responds like he’s on autopilot. 

“Are we seriously going to do this now?” Oswald questions while waving around his arms. “I want to get out of the pool now.”

“No,” Ed shakes his head, pulling his feet out of the water and hugging his knees to his chest. “I mean, yes. I mean no, you can’t get out of the pool. Yes, we are doing this now.”

“It’s none of your business how I identify,” Oswald snaps. “You gave up that right a long time ago. Let me get out of the pool.”

This whole situation is ridiculous. He’s not even sure why he’s asking Ed if he can leave the pool to begin with. It’s his pool, his house, Ed’s not even near the stairs, but for some reason, Oswald feels stuck right where he is.

“What if I wanted it to be my business?” Ed almost whispers back. 

“For what?” Oswald snaps. “Documentation purposes so you can calibrate when it might be medically safe for me to fuck someone again?”

“Oswald,” Ed sighs as he slowly unwinds himself until his feet sink back into the warm water. “I don’t regret shooting you.”

“Thanks, Old Friend,” Oswald huffs as he tries to not cry out of the one good eye he has left. 

“What I do regret, nearly every day, especially recently, is that you tried to reach out and touch me on that pier right before I shot you and I refused you. We’ve hugged occasionally since then, but we don’t touch each other. You never tried to touch me again outside of illness, injury, or terror, and the longer I go without it, the more I crave it.” Ed wipes at his face with a grim, sickly grin. “I want to know what it’s like to be loved by you, Oswald. I’m just two decades late to the party.”

Oswald doesn’t say anything.

“I know you’re leaving,” Ed chokes out. “I don’t know when or where you’re going. I don't know why you keep talking to me about it. It could be to hurt me, but we haven’t played that game in such a long time. I don’t want to be vulnerable with you without being able to predict how you might respond, but you almost DIED, OSWALD. You almost left me behind. I don’t want you to go off without me. Please don’t leave me here. I know I’ve been a terrible partner to you, but I’m trying. I’m taking my medication, I’m seeing a therapist. I’m working just as hard as you to be healthy but in my own way. I need time. Please give me time.”

“You’ve never been a terrible partner,” Oswald manages articulate from somewhere in his overwhelmed brain. “You’ve been a shit boyfriend for like ...20 years. I expect better.”

Ed laughs though his tears. “I’ll work on that, if you’re agreeable. I could use some guidelines. I’m way out of practice.”

Oswald snorts, shakes his head. “I’ve got fifteen more minutes of this damn therapy, then we’re going to talk.”

Ed nods, Oswald takes a deep breath and slips into the deep end. Physically and metaphorically.


	7. Gotham

He’s showered, standing in the master bathroom staring at him in the mirror wrapped up in his robe utterly terrified to go talk to Ed.

Oswald sighs. “I am an utter fool. And an old one at that.”

The hesitant knock on the bathroom door really should have been expected, Oswald honestly has no idea how long he’s been hiding up here afraid to face any number of possible futures. Instead he’s startled enough to let out a very loud squeak and is blushing terribly when Ed yanks the door open.

“I’m sorry,” Ed says after scanning the room and Oswald with his eyes to make sure everything is as it should be. “You were gone so long and then you made that noise and I thought something might have happened.”

“No,” Oswald huffs at his own foolishness. “I’ve just been…” He trails off, not knowing what to say.

“Hiding from me in the bathroom?” Ed offers with a smile. 

“Exactly,” Oswald admits with a shake of his head. 

He’s not expecting Ed to cross his arms and nearly pouting say, “Well too bad. We’re talking about this.”

The sternness of it actually makes Oswald feel a bit better. “Not in here we’re not.” He heads toward the doorway into the bedroom that Ed is currently blocking with a bravado he certainly doesn’t feel, Ed stepping aside to allow him through and following his lead back into the living room to sit in front of the fire. Oswald gathers his robe around him and belatedly realizes he had meant to get dressed. Now he’s going to have to do this in a robe. The vulnerability is extraordinary

He’s stunned when Ed rolls up his dress shirt sleeves and removes his tie before undoing the buttons halfway down his chest to show his undershirt. “Formalwear as armour,” Ed shrugs as he slips off his shoes and tucks himself into the far side of the couch. “I hope this puts us on more even ground.”

All Oswald can think is how much he wants to kiss Ed right now. It occurs to me he could perhaps just ...say it. This whole conversation is about risks. “I could kiss you right now,” he murmurs as if saying it at full volume makes it too real. 

Ed flushes beautifully. “I hope this talk might move us both to a point where that is a very real option on a consistent basis. Admittedly, I’m equally invested in kissing you, but not until we have reached an accord.”

Oswald finds it in him to smile, despite his anxiety. “Where do we begin?”

Ed’s whole posture changes, shoulders sagging, spine slumping, he sinks into the couch as if a huge weight has been taken from his shoulders. 

“Ed,” Oswald asks, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I thought you would reject me,” Ed admits. “That you’re here, willing to discuss our options together. It means a great deal.”

Oswald nods, hoping it’s enough encouragement for Ed to start them off. Oswald has no idea how to get from where they are to where he wants them to be. Or even what Ed wants them to be. The dangling hope he thought long destroyed is almost painful. 

“I’d like to be in a long term committed relationship with you,” Ed blurts and then looks horrified at what he just said. 

Oswald chuckles and can’t help but tease him, “Aren’t we already doing that? It’s been almost two decades.”

Ed rolls his eyes, “Fine. Then I want to change the dynamics of our current relationship.”

“How so,” Oswald counters. Admittedly enjoying the change in power dynamic from where their intimacy usually lies. Ed is nervous, Ed is making declarations, Ed WANTS him. For most of their history it has been the other way around.

“I’d like you to stop fucking other people,” Ed answers bluntly. 

Oswald blinks, “I didn’t even think you knew about that.”

“I’ve had to try very hard not to kill them,” Ed answers while he looks away at the fire. 

“You’re jealous,” Oswald is stunned leaning forward just to look at the way Ed’s face flinches at the word. 

“You’re mine,” Ed replies as his eyes snap back to Oswald’s face.

Oswald nods, “Yes, I am. Done. Next item?”

“I want…” Ed flounders. “I … Oswald how do you feel about me?”

Oswald looks at the fire for a long time before deciding to finally try honesty. “I’ve loved you half my life, Ed.” 

Ed makes a noise that sounds like a hiccup and Oswald turns to look at only to see him wiping tears away from behind his glasses. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I’ve always been so conflicted within myself. Who I wanted to be verses who I was told to be. It’s taken me an embarrassing amount of time to even start working on my relationship with myself. I thought love made me weak. But you have always been the strongest person I have ever met. I want you to know, these feelings aren’t new to me. I don;t know if that makes this confession better or worse for you. I think I loved you on that pier when I shot you. I just hurt so much. I know I loved you when they took me back there to kill me and you saved me. You’re always saving me, Ozzie.”

Ed stops for a moment, “I never told you about my family and how they treated me. The expectations were ...extreme and I paid dearly for failing to meet them. I thought I had recreated myself anew when I left it all behind and changed my name, but I’m learning, even now, that their hatred has driven so much of my life. I told you I’m in therapy. I have assignments and sessions to attend, I may need you to come with me if my issues start to bleed over into our relationship again. I want you to know that upfront. Is that manageable for you?”

“Yes,” Oswald agrees without needing time to think. “I need you to take your medication all the time, Ed.”

“I understand and agree to that as well,” Ed nods. “I stop sometimes because the side effects are ...difficult for me. They make it harder for me to think as fast as I like, and, more important to our relationship might be they make it difficult for me to experience arousal and to perform ...sexually. It’s why I need to know your level of interest in the more physically intimate side of our relationship. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will need to ask for medication to help me.”

“Like Viagra?” Oswald asks. “I have a bottle full of it upstairs.”

Ed looks perplexed. “Umm, for you?”

“No,” Oswald shakes his head. “I used it on a man who owed me some information, just to see what it would do. The results were ...impressive and horrifying. Of course,I gave him five times the recommended dose. You should probably only take half. Does things to your blood pressure.”

“You really are a genius,” Ed smiles at him. “I’ve never understood why you play dumb so often.”

Oswald grins back proudly, “A conversation for another time.” He stops and then adds, “Back to the matter at hand, I would dearly love to experience any level of physical intimacy you’re willing to share with me. I’ve missed touching you as well, Edward. It’s been ...often very difficult to respect what you asked of me.”

He’s gratified when Ed scoots toward him across the couch, reaching toward him with trembling hands to brush his knuckles across Oswald’s cheek. “Will you hold me?” Ed whispers as Oswald leans into his touch. 

“Always,” Oswald finds himself gathering Ed’s taller frame against his own. Making space for him against the side of his body and back of the couch as they curl into each other, nuzzling, pressing tender kisses to each others noses, cheeks, fingertips. “We can talk more later,” Oswald murmurs as Ed tucks his face into Oswald’s neck. “I have so much I want to share with you.”

Ed hums, wrapping long arms around Oswald’s softer frame. “I want everything with you.”


	8. Las Vegas, Nevada

“Edward,” Oswald gasps. “Are you EVER going to come?”

They’re both drenched in sweat. Oswald is fairly certain he will NOT be able to walk tomorrow after all this. Honestly, he’s starting to think he may never walk again at this rate. 

Ed huffs out behind him, “I hope so.”

There’s something in his desperate tone and the way Ed bends over Oswald’s bared back to rest his forehead against Oswald’s spine, as if he were looking for strength, that for some unknown reason tickles Oswald. He starts to chuckle. Ed’s not far behind him either, a strangled sort of giggle coming out of the taller man as he clutches Oswalds hips that much tighter and pleads. “Ozzie, please stop, the wiggling is too much.”

Oswald laughs all the harder, his face pressed to the sheets beneath his head as he manages to choke out, “This is how I’m going to die. Fucked to death by the love of my life.”

At that, Ed loses it. He slides out of Oswald’s tender body with a gasp and collapses beside him in a heap with one long arm thrown over his face while he chuckles. “I’m so sorry. This is ridiculous.”

His tone has an undercurrent of frustration that Oswald simply cannot allow. He reaches over, dragging their bodies closer together and pressing tender kisses along Ed’s fingertips as he comments, “I’m an old man, Ed. An old man who has come twice tonight. I would have told you that was impossible.”

“You did tell me it was impossible,” Ed snorts. “Right before you came the second time.”

Oswald swats at him ineffectually before resulting in rolling up onto his elbow to poke the other man in the chest. “You’re so flushed,” Oswald comments, just concerned enough to press his hand against Ed’s forehead. “I told you to only take a half a pill.”

Ed rolls his eyes, “I KNOW! But the doctor said I should start with a whole one.” Ed looks down his own body, Oswald’s eyes tracking along. “Now I’m going to have to live the rest of my life with a permanently hard cock.” 

“I’m fairly certain it says to cut it off if you have an erection longer than four hours,” Oswald offers with a grin.

Ed tries to shove him off the bed. Hard.

“Come on then,” Oswald offers as he gets to his feet. “Let’s go shower, if it doesn’t work out in there, I’ll give you the blow job of a lifetime.” 

Ed scrambles off the bed so fast he gets dizzy and has to sit back down. “Ozzie,” he says as they head toward the bathroom. “Tell me this isn’t the most horrible sexual experience of your life. I’d like you to want to do this again with me someday soon.”

Oswald laughs as he checks the temperature of the shower water. “This is by FAR not the most horrible sexual experience of my life, Eddie. Trust me. I’m having a great deal of fun with you. Which is not something I think I have ever been able to say about my previous partners.”

Ed kisses him then, not their first kiss by any means, but it’s sweet and tender. Oswald presses closer once they enter the expansive walk in shower Oswald had added to the master bathroom once he moved in. A luxury for certain, sometimes he just sits on the bench and enjoys the steam. They hold each other under the warm spray before Oswald gathers up his soap and a washcloth and begins cleaning his lover while Ed whimpers at the intimacy. 

“Ozzie,” he pleads as Oswald circles his aching erection. Ed’s hips thrusting into Oswald’s loose grip. “Please.” His hips tilting into Oswald’s palm as he cups Ed’s ass in his hand. 

“You’re a work of art, you know” Oswald whispers. “Tall and lean and unbelievably sexy. I adore your body. Every part of it.” 

His fingers slip down between Ed’s cheeks to brush over Ed’s opening. Ed’s hips jerk. “Oh, please. Yes. Inside.” 

“You like this,” Oswald makes conversation as he trails his finger around in tight circles.

“I’d let you take me right now if you thought you could come again,” Ed gasps out as the tip of Oswald’s finger slips inside him. 

“Come?” Oswald snorts. “I’m not even sure I can get an erection at this point.”

“Oh, Ozzie,” Ed whimpers. Whether in reaction to the slide of Oswald’s finger deep inside him or the concern that Oswald might not be enjoying this Oswald isn’t certain. 

Better safe than sorry.

“You’ve utterly worn me out,” Oswald whispers into Ed’s ear when the taller man bows his head to rest it on his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so well taken care of or had such a good time.”

The beautiful thing is, it’s the truth too. Oswald’s nearly giddy with the hazy of his endorphins at this point. It’s been so long since he felt wanted, even attractive, that he doesn’t even remember. Ed has been a gift. 

He slides in another finger along side the first and is pleased when Ed all but growls. Long arms snapping out to press into the tile wall as Oswald works him from both sides. Ed’s hips start to thrust. He’s panting against Oswald’s skin. “I want you to take me,” Ed murmurs. “Next time. I want you inside. I want to ride you. Please, Ozzie, tell me I can.”

“I’d love you like that,” Oswald answers. But, honestly, He loves Ed anyway he can get him. 

Ed’s hips jerk, he lets out a ragged moan. “Good boy,” Oswald whispers as he presses a kiss to the bicep of one of Ed’s braced arms. “So good for me. So beautiful, perfect for me. Everything I want.”

Ed nearly screams as he comes. Oswald has to briefly hold him up as he body nearly seizes.

“Eddie,” Oswald questions with a tiny bit of panic. “Are you ok?”

Ed hums a pleased noise against Oswald’s shoulder before nodding. 

“Can we finish cleaning and go to bed?” Ed asks. “This has been ridiculous and amazing and I just want to hold you and sleep next to you and wake up and have you with me and realize it hasn’t been a dream.”

Oswald flushes nearly crimson. “Of course,” he manages to choke out, throat tight with emotion. 

It’s only later, when they are tucked into bed together in the dark, that Ed cups Oswald’s face and whispers, “Let’s go to Vegas.”

Oswald snorts, “To do what?”

“See the sights, gamble, take in a show,” Ed lists as he pets Oswald’s cheek. “Get married by Elvis.”

Oswald takes no small amount of enjoyment of Ed’s squeak when he tucks his cold feet into Ed’s thigh. “You’re horrible,” Oswald huffs playfully.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear,” Ed comments before kissing Oswald so soundly he loses track of what they were saying. “Marry me.”

Oswald blinks into the darkness a few times before he says, “Okay.”


	9. Never Never Land

“We should probably talk ….” Ed takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.   
About ...him.”

“Him?” Oswald questions. Ed looks like he is two steps away from a panic attack and Oswald is CLUELESS as to what’s going on. “Who?”

“I’ve been taking my medication. You know that,” Ed blurts, ringing his hands. 

“I do,” Oswald agrees. They share the same medicine cabinet. All their meds snuggled in tight together. Ed gave up his apartment over a month ago. They live together. 

“I’ve been seeing my therapist,” Ed continues. “We’ve been working on ...personality integration for quite some time. It’s just … not going anywhere. So he suggested I sit down with you and discuss ...Riddler.” 

“Oh!” Oswald comments, pleased. A sense of relief washing over him. 

Ed looks poleaxed. “That’s it?”

“Well, yes,” Oswald answers with a shrug. “I thought you were discussing someone new, or some terrible person that was putting our relationship at risk. It’s just Riddler. I can deal with Riddler. I have, many times. Why are you so worried?”

“Because he IS putting our relationship at risk!” Ed snaps, wiping at his face with his handkerchief. 

“How?” Oswald questions.

“Because he won’t go away!” Ed huffs. 

“Explain,” Oswald murmurs as he reaches out to take Ed’s trembling hand. “I’m lost. Help me.”

“He won’t go away,” Ed complains as he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying my whole life to deal with this and now, when I’m finally happy and safe for maybe the first time ever, he won’t just let me enjoy it. And my therapist is talking about blending our personalities together. I don’t WANT THAT. I like who I am, YOU like who I am. I’m afraid that him being a part of this will destroy this. I’m afraid that his greed and need for power will drag me away from all this. I’m tired, Ozzie. I want to go away with you. I don’t want some terrible third wheel dragging me away from …..my happily ever after.”

Oswald hiccups, trying in vain not to just burst into tears at what Ed’s just said. As he ages, the softer side of him has been harder and harder to push down. He coos at animal rescue videos, cries at old love songs, weeps when Ed plays a haunting melody on the piano. “I’m becoming an old fool,” Oswald jokes by way of an answer. “But an old fool with a full heart.” 

He reaches out to gather his long time love to him, Ed collapsing into Oswald’s arms as though he needs a lifeline. They rock together, side to side as they wait for emotions to settle so they can finish what Oswald frankly thinks is a ridiculous talk. But it’s clearly distressing for Ed and he has learned after what sometimes seems like a lifetime of poor choices to not assume his opinion carries any weight in anyone else’s soul. “What does he want?” Oswald asks quietly. 

“”You,” Ed whispers as though saying it too loud would result in something catastrophic. “The same thing he’s wanted for years. You. Recognition from you, acceptance from you, to be seen by you, to be wanted by YOU. He wants to take you away from me. Or rather, take my place and lock me so deep inside I can’t get back out. He’s cruel, Oswald.” 

“I didn’t think I mattered all that much,” Oswald murmurs. 

“You’re everything,” Ed answers honestly. “You always have been for both of us.”

“Ed,” Oswald sighs as he leans further back into the couch with Ed still pressed firmly to his side. “Have you considered you might be wrong about his intentions?” 

There’s a significant pause. 

“No,” Ed answers honestly. “Why?”

“It’s been a very long time,” Oswald states. “He may have long since moved past me. Ed, you should talk to him.”

“I do,” Ed huffs, tugging away from Oswald just to lean against the couch and tuck his cold feet beneath Oswald’s thigh. “And seriously, neither of us has ever been able to move past you. You know that. It’s why it drove him crazy when you wouldn’t acknowledge him all those years ago. It’s why when you finally did, when you called his name, he held you like you were everything he ever wanted. He almost kissed you then, in the middle of Arkham.”

“Why didn’t he?” Oswald questions. He tries for nonchalaunt and fails miserably. 

Ed has the grace to ignore the desperation. “You deserved better. We were both foolish back then. We always thought there would be more time. Why did you want him to kiss you?”

Oswald flushes all the way to the tips of his ears. “Because I love you. All of you. Both of you. And he looked hot as fuck all ruffled like that.”

Ed’s body gives a twitch, then a full body jerk. Oswald’s alarmed but before he’s able to ask anything or move Ed is scrambling into his lap, forcing him back into the couch, and tugging on his hair to get his face to tip up. 

Then Ed kisses him, as filthy a kiss as they have ever shared. Nipping at Oswald’s lips before dipping into his mouth with his tongue. Oswald is gasping, hands flailing before finally landing on Ed’s hips as he groans like a man too long denied water just getting his first sip. 

When they break away Ed stays where he planted himself in Oswald’s lap, petting and stroking Oswald’s nose and cheeks with quivering fingers and a look of utter wonder and desire on his face. 

Oswald takes a deep breath and swallows before managing to croak, “Hello, Riddler.” 

Their eyes meet, something feral and desperate shining in Ed’s eyes. “Hello,” Riddler seems to purr before nuzzling the side of Oswald’s face. “Oh, Oswald. I’ve missed you so.”


	10. update

No new chapter. I had hoped I would have time to finish it before today but time just got the best of me. I wanted to let everyone know I'm going on a cruise. Due to lack of internet access my next chapter will be posted the 9th or 10th of February. I just post pretty regularly so I wanted to let people know why the sudden silence. See you when I get back!


	11. Bruges, Belgium

“I want to see the world,” Riddler murmurs into the mess of Oswald’s hair. “Together, with you. Take me anywhere, everywhere.”

Oswald smiles into the damp fabric of Riddlers undershirt, rubbing his cheek against what has to be utterly ruined material and inhaling the scent of the two of them together. Oddly different from when he is with Ed, but comforting just the same. “All you have to do is give me a time frame and it’s done you know. I’m ready to leave, been ready to leave for a very long time.”

“Even if it meant leaving us behind?” Riddler questions, sounding tense and afraid even from the circle of Oswald’s arms on the floor. 

“Yes,” Oswald whispers, a barely there noise spoken into the dark almost too softly to be heard. “If that had been the only way, I’d have left you both behind. Promise me I won’t have to do that.”

It’s not a question. A plea? Maybe. But Oswald is certain, they will go together or he will go alone. There will be no more Gotham in his future. 

“You’re our star, Oswald,” Riddler answers. “You give us direction, point us the way. We are nothing but lost without you. We accepted that years ago. We thought it was too late and that you had moved on without us. We’re grateful, beyond words, that we were wrong.”

Oswald hums his pleasure as he feels Riddler gather him closer in long arms. 

“Give me a month,” Riddler says before handing their shared body back to Ed. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Oswald wants to believe him. In truth, he mostly does. But age has taught him caution and his relationship with Ed and Riddler has long since taught him pain. 

While he waits, he plans, and bakes. 

It’s Friday night, two weeks into their agreed upon month. 

Friday night became dinner night long ago. Oswald has happily spent most of the afternoon cooking and baking. Planning for a romantic dinner with whichever of his lover’s personalities comes to the door. 

But Ed is….late. 

Not the stuck in traffic be there in five minutes kind of late either. Oswald makes it three hours past their agreed upon time to dine before he breaks out the wine, ice cream, and bad coping skills. 

It’s Riddler in the driver’s seat when they roll in the door at close to midnight. He’s beaming, broad grin brushed across his high cheekbones like blush. “Oswald!” He exclaims as he rushes in the room like he’s on time. “You’ll never believe it! I met a WOMAN!” 

Oswald doesn’t recall later making a conscious decision to hurl the carving knife at Ed’s head, but he hurls it just the same. Once he’s started it seems a natural follow up to just work his way down the table. He’s distantly aware that someone is shrieking but too drunk to know it’s him. He’s made it halfway down the table tossing food, plates, cutlery, glassware, everything he grabs right at Ed’s horrible fucking face. 

Riddler is yelling for him to stop, ducking and dodging what he can but Oswald has clearly landed some good blows, Riddler’s face is painted now with not a grin but blood. Oswald keeps throwing until his head pounds, his chest hurts, and the room spins. Riddler melting quickly into Ed who is now frantically trying to approach Oswald shouting, “Please stop! You’re hurting yourself. Ozzie! You have it wrong. You have to breathe!”

“GET OUT!” Oswald snarls as he back away from the mess he’s made. He backs across the room until he presses himself to the wall and growls, “GET OUT! You can have your WOMAN, hell, you can keep this place for all I care. Just LEAVE and never, ever look for me.”

“Ozzie,” Ed sobs, reaching out to him with trembling hands. “This is all a huge misunderstanding. Please let me explain.”

“GET OUT!” Oswald bellows with very bit of air left in his lungs. Head pounding like a blood vessel is ready to pop. 

Ed stills, hands falling to his side with a grim shake of his head. “I’ll go. But you’re wrong. I understand why you’re upset. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

Oswald says nothing as he watches Ed creep toward the door. As soon as he’s certain the other man is actually gone he drags himself to his feet and stumbles to the bathroom. Less than an hour later he’s showered, changed, and on the way to a very discreet private airport with a bag packed and his accountant on stand by. By dawn he’s on his way to Bruges with no future plans or a solid direction. He can deal with that all later. Right now, he just needs a place to lick his wounds, tend to his battered pride, and remind himself to never love another living thing again. 

Ed arrives with the first light of the sun to make amends. He finds the house a mess, food and silverware everywhere. No Oswald, no clues to where he’s gone. Ed rushes to the safe Oswald thinks he doesn’t know about and reaches inside to find it empty. As he staggers back down the steps and into the kitchen he sees the well loved brochures Oswald had spent years collecting scattered all around the room like confetti. 

Ed collapses in the mess of shredded paper and sobs his grief into the floor.


	12. Hell, is in the Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of drug use (it's Ed) and self harm (Vague) Just this chapter.

“Hey,” She comments as she slinks down beside him on the rooftop. “Science Guy?”

Ed’s eyes barely flicker open from where he’s collapsed and curled in on his side. “Street Trash Girl. Long time.”

“What happened to you?” She asks as she crawls closer. “Where’s Penguin? I’ll have him come get you. You’re a mess.”

Ed manages to get a laugh out of his strangled throat. “Oswald’s….gone.” He wells with tears then, unable to contain the sob that echoes across the rooftop and wracks his body with pain. 

“Gone as in…” She doesn’t say it, for that Ed is grateful. Oswald might as well be dead to him for all the luck he’s had in trying to locate him. “Or are you two idiots just fighting again?”

“He left me,” Ed cries as he presses his face to the dirt and gravel under his dilapidated body, dragging his cheek against the grit until it catches and drags. “He didn’t even want to fight about it. He just ...left me behind.”

Ed loses all sense of time then, uncertain how long she sits beside him before another, heavier set of footsteps comes across the roof toward them.

“He’s sick,” she says to the newcomer. 

“He’s high,” The Bat responds. 

Ed doesn’t argue. They’re both right. 

“The mess of a heist I just cleaned up was beneath you, Ed,” the Bat comments before reaching down and dragging Ed into a sitting position. “It was sloppy, someone could have gotten hurt. Someone innocent. That’s not like you. And for what? You didn’t even steal anything. What was the point?”

“That WAS the point,” Ed croaks, wavering to stay upright, even from a seated position with the wall helping. “Getting hurt, that’s the whole point now.”

“What are you getting at?” She asks him as the Bat leans over him and pulls his eyelids open one after the other. Ed’s so tired, he can’t keep them open himself anymore. 

“Oswald’s gone,” Ed shrugs, or at least he thinks he does. “Gone for good this time. I have nothing. Nothing to look forward to, nothing but grief and pain. I’m done. You win. You can have this city, you can take everything. None of it matters without him. I can’t find him. He doesn’t want me to follow him. There’s no clues, no hate filled gestures. He’s left me and I can’t… not by myself. I never could, not really. I don’t want to be here.”  
“Ed,” the Bat says somewhat harsher than before. “What did you take?”

“Everything,” Ed chuckles. “But even that wasn’t enough to kill us. So we had to take measures.”

“What measures?” Selina asks, sounding very far away and very frantic. “What did you do?!” 

Ed tries to push them away, hands not working. He’s detached now, like it’s all beneath him. He hears muttered cursing and they rip into his bloody clothing to find his wounds. How exactly he got injured isn’t really clear to him now. He just wants… “Oswald.” 

“Shut the fuck up about OSWALD,” She snarls. “I swear I’m going to choke that short asshole the next time I see him.”

Ed wants to tell her neither of them will ever see Oswald again, but the words won’t come out. 

*****

“No!,” She’s shouting. It’s at a distance though. Ed’s got no idea where he is. It’s dark here. He hurts all over. “No, you listen you giant jackass, he is YOUR problem. NOT MINE. It’s not our fault that you two are so codependent you can’t function without each other. NO! NO, OSWALD! You are NOT turning this around on me and Bruce. You want to talk about my relationship issues you call me later after I’m done dealing with Ed for you! I can’t keep acting like I have no clue what’s going on when everyone can see him destroying himself. I’ve paid my debt to you.”

“Oswald,” Ed gasps, dragging himself up in the bed he finds himself in and ripping at the tubes and monitors connected to his body. She’s talking to Oswald. “OSWALD!” He chokes out as he tries to get to his feet and collapses onto the stone floor. “Please…”

“He’s sick,” she comments after a long pause. “You know WHY! Stop being so stupid. I almost didn’t find him in time. You think about that while I deal with this. Then tell me what you want me to tell him. This has to stop.”

She hangs up and Ed screams his frustration into the floor, agonized that he was so close and so far away. “Why?” He sobs as she sinks down onto the floor beside him and tugs him over until his head rests in her lap. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“Love sucks,” She whispers to him as he pets his thinning hair. “And you’re both idiots.” 

“Why is he talking to you?” Ed asks as he clings to her. She just talked to his Oswald, like if he holds on tight enough part of it will rub back off on him. 

“I owe him a favor,” She sighs. “Making sure you don’t implode is the price.” 

“You’re not doing a very good job,” Ed huffs as he wipes at his tears. 

She laughs. “Neither are you.”

“What do I do now?” Ed whispers, mostly to himself. 

“Get better,” Selina responds. “Then, once you’ve gotten yourself all worked out, go and get your man.” 

“You’ll help me?” Ed asks, wiping his face with trembling hands. 

“Anything,” she swears with a shake of her head. “So long as you SWEAR you will leave and neither of you will ever EVER come back.” 

Ed counts it as a fair trade. 

But, help him, he has so far to go.


	13. Around the world in 782 days

Ed takes in a deep breath of the sea air and closes his eyes as the wind ruffles his hair. 

He’s tired, not used to so much travelling, but his destination has been obtained, their final act ready to play out any moment. He’s worked so hard for this. Months of detox, medication regimens that it took forever to get right, therapy, support groups, relapses. 

The last time Ed worked so hard to become something was when he tried to turn himself into Riddler. Ironic that they find themselves at the end of the it all still two unique individuals stuck together in one body, with a single goal.

Find Oswald Cobblepot. 

It should be easier than this, Oswald has never been a subtle man. Ed figured by this point there would be a life sized statue in his honor outside some seedy nightclub with drunk people pouring out of its doors onto the streets in the middle of the night. 

There’s no shrine to Oswald here. At least not the way Ed expects there to be. 

This by far hasn’t been his first stop on his journey. His long time love clearly didn’t want to be found. The stupid burner cells traced back to dead ends, purchases tracked to false accounts. Ed’s been literally around the world in the past thirty days. Everywhere from Bangladesh to Moscow, Osaka to Sydney. He even tried Las Vegas, just in case. 

Hawaii was a bust too. 

So when Selina had called and told him Oswald had been confirmed here of all places, Ed had been suspicious at best. But he was out of ideas and Selina had reminded him ...AGAIN ...that coming back to Gotham was no longer an option for him. 

Small price to pay. 

Whether Oswald will love him, or kill him, Ed doesn’t care. He’s just so damn lonely without his bird. 

“Really, Oswald,” Ed sighs as he wipes his face with his handkerchief, “Haiti? I expected somewhere a little more ...luxurious.”

“Well,” comes a long missed voice from behind him. “In all fairness, I spend a little over half the year in Bermuda.”

Ed jerks around, stumbling in his haste, to see a man who looks nothing like what he expected Oswald to look like. “You’re blonde?” 

“Have been all my life,” Oswald shrugs shoulders moving smoothly under the loose purple shirt he has on. “I thought you knew.” 

“How would I have known?” Ed asks, long arms reaching out with the intent of touching the downey locks now adorning his newly tropical bird. “You had black hair on your head and no hair anywhere else.”

The look on Oswald’s face is enough to warn Ed that his touch is certainly less than welcome. 

“What do you want, Ed?” Oswald sighs. “I’m late for my date this evening.”

So this is how it is to be then. No pleasantries, no swell of music and romantic gestures.

“I met a woman,” Ed starts. 

Oswald’s dispassionate facade cracks and he snatches Ed by the collar, yanking him forward before shoving him away hard enough for him to stumble into the street while snarling, “We’ve had this conversation twice before now. I never want to have it again.”

He turns then to leave, walking away with less of a limp than Ed remembers. It occurs to him, somewhere in the part of his brain that Riddler lives in ...Pride. Riddler’s proud of Oswald. Even Ed, emotional distress aside, has to acknowledge that this time apart has been good for their love. Oswald looks healthier than Ed has ever seen him. “I met a woman!” Ed shouts after him. “You’d love her. She HATES me.”

Oswald stops walking but doesn’t turn around. 

“She says I have the emotional intellect of an infant. That my intellect has to be big to make up for the rest of my shortcomings.” Ed takes a deep breath and plows on when it becomes clear Oswald is going to hear him out finally. 

“I met a woman,” Ed starts again, “eight hundred and twelve days ago, when I was picking up wine for dinner. She called herself Query. She kidnapped me. Said she wanted in on the business. She was smart, calculated, and had a five year plan. I told her we wanted out, she promised to take care of our assets, maintain our boundaries. She really does hate me, Oswald. This isn’t like Isabella. I thought, in my mania, that this would be our way out together. I lost all track of time planning our introductions and transitions. By the time I got home, I was so wound up in what I now can clearly see was a full on manic episode that it never occurred to me to consider our history with dinners. I just opened my mouth and ruined everything. I’m sorry. I DID meet a woman. But she was nothing compared to you. I just needed you to know that. I promised you I wouldn’t betray you again, and I didn’t. I never have. Only you hold our heart.”

When nothing comes from the other man Ed finally questions, “Oswald?” With a sense of desperation. “I thought maybe we could try again, talk it out, or maybe you’d kill me and we could just be done with it all. I don’t know what you would prefer. But please, say something.”

The sigh that Oswald exhales is palpable. “I don’t have a date for dinner. I lied.” 

Relief, sweet and painful, rushes through Ed’s chest. Tears prick his eyes. “We could have dinner?” He offers, hopeful. 

Oswald laughs, a nearly hysterical sound. “Our track record on dinner is abysmal.”

He’s silent just long enough for Ed’s heart to start to crack. 

“But,” Oswald offers as he finally turns around and offers Ed his hand. “You can take me to breakfast.”

Ed grabs that offered hand like a lifeline. “I don’t have a place to stay the night yet,” he comments as they meander their way down the street. 

“Yes you do,” Oswald answers. 

Ed's pretty sure Oswald's not going to kill him. 

Pretty sure.


	14. Home ….Is Where the Heart Is

Ed sleeps on the couch. 

Oswald’s not done with this yet. He’s learned codependency is a huge weakness of his. With his mother, with Ed, all of his relationships colored by the fear of emotional engagement, the desperate neediness for the same engagement, and the frantic attempts to smooth out all of said relationships issues by ANY means necessary. 

Oswald’s tired. 

Ed hasn’t been the only one working on himself. 

“”Expectations?” Oswald asks over tea the next morning, he can admit to himself that he’s enamored with Ed’s distraction over the color of his hair. The taller man can’t seem to take his eyes off of the top of Oswald’s head. 

“Of us?” Ed questions. When Oswald nods Ed fidgets. “I don’t know. I’ve been so focused on finding you, hoping to be allowed to explain everything. I didn’t dare think past that. I’ve been afraid to hope for more.” 

Oswald goes to comment, seeking more information, but then Ed’s face twitches, Riddler slides into place with a lecherous grin, “I want my dick in your mouth and my hands in that amazing hair.”

Oswald takes a sip of tea and waits.

Waits for the grin to slide off Riddler’s face as it morphs into something like concern, like worry, like Oswald actually means more than a conquest for him as well. 

“I want you,” Riddler whispers as he picks at his own fingernails. “I ...want to stay ...please.”

This ...this Oswald is willing to work with. 

“I want clarity about our affairs,” he comments as Riddler squirms.

“No affairs,” Riddler snaps as he leans across the table. “I don’t have any, haven’t had any, won’t tolerate any from you.”

Oswald bursts into pleased laughter. “Not that kind of affair.” It is so rare when Oswald can confuse Riddler. He’s enormously tickled with himself. “I mean our relationship affairs. The relationship between you and me and Ed. I want to have it all as clear as crystal.”

There’s a pause, Oswald watches his two … well. He’s honestly not sure what to call these two yet. But they are clearly having an intense conversation. 

“What kind of crystal?” Riddler finally asks. At Oswald’s annoyed look the taller man rolls his eyes and adds, “Clarity is something Ed and I struggle with. We aren’t sure we can provide that level of consistency to you without understanding the parameters of your request. Do you mean we Ed and I split the week? He gets Tuesday through Thursday and I take the rest with rotating weekends? We don’t work that way. We’ve tried that. Or you only want one partner most of the time? That leads to conflict and as much as we both love you, Oswald, our relationship with each other is more important. It has to be or we can’t stay sober. We tried that too.”

Oswald files that bit away to talk about later. He knows the struggles Ed and Riddler have had. Selina has kept him aware of them as the years dragged on. But still, he would like their own explanations, wants to be invited along on that journey of recovery by them both instead of peeking in at them from a distance. 

“We can’t merge,” Riddler says after a moment of silence. He looks distressed. Tired. “We worked so hard at that but there’s just no path forward for us there. If that is your hope then we are done before we begin. It’s not accomplishable. Our doctors even gave up on that route after we all failed so many times. I’m afraid it is both of us or nothing.”

“I would never ask you to do that,” Oswald reassures them, hand itching to slide across the table and touch, soothe. But it’s not time for that yet. “I would have you no other way then how you are now, so long as it is healthy for you. You look better than I have ever seen you. Clearly something is working. We have much to discuss, Old Friend, but please don’t think it’s my wish for you to capitulate to my every whim or want. Arguing with you both has been one of the things I missed the most. And know, I missed you desperately, painfully. I owe you apologies, explanations, other things I’m sure you need that I have not even thought of. I need us to talk. I need us to never fight like we have fought before again. I need to trust you and have you trust me. And I need to share my life here with you in the hopes you will see the value in becoming part of it.”

“Then finish your tea,” Riddler smiles, open and soft like Oswald hasn’t seen on that beloved face in years. “And show me this life you built. Teach me how to fit in it at your side. Let’s see how I can be valuable to you now.” 

Oswald swallows the last of tea in one gulp, grabs his hat, and tugs them after him, out of the tiny house he currently calls home and into the sunlight of the street.


End file.
